


looks like a new transition

by pyrophane



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Attempted Comfort, Injury, M/M, wound care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrophane/pseuds/pyrophane
Summary: “Hey—Kurosaki—stay with me, come on—” Shun coughs, takes a deep, shuddering breath, but still doesn’t open his eyes. “Shun,” Yuuya tries, and the word feels like it’s been wrenched out from somewhere deep in his stomach. “Shun—”Shun lurches forward. There’s a terrible flare of expectation in his eyes and something, the part of him that moves on instinct to mirror Shun, constricts in Yuuya’s chest in response. “Yuuto?” he demands. “Is he—are you—”





	

**Author's Note:**

> au for no other reason than to enable a sparrowshipping wound care scenario ft bodysharing angst. theoretically set sometime between the friendship cup and xyz arc, before shun Comes To Terms with the yuuya/yuuto situation, but doesn’t actually fit anywhere in canon [waves hand vaguely at timeline]. a huge thank you to [bibliophilo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliophilo/pseuds/bibliophilo) for the characterisation pointers!
> 
> very, very loose depiction of first aid, please don’t try any of this at home. title from 'Witchcraft' by Pendulum.

 

 

 

 

 

They duck into a narrow alley between two shopfronts, the air electric with the unsettled-dust smell of a gathering storm. Yuuya lowers Shun to the ground, propping him against the wall. Shun tips his head back, a thin film of sweat sheening over his forehead, breathing gone shallow, ragged; Yuuya tugs the lapel of Shun’s jacket down off his left shoulder to get a better look at where he’d gotten caught by flying debris back in the underground chaos, and sucks in a breath. There’s blood. There’s a _lot_ of blood, seeping dark and glassy even through the fabric of Shun’s shirt.

Grimacing, Shun slaps his right hand over the wound like hiding it from sight will make it disappear, knuckles going white where he’s clutching his shoulder. He squeezes his eyes shut and appears to promptly pass out.

“Kurosaki?” No response. Yuuya fumbles for Shun’s other wrist, digging his thumb into the pulse stuttering there. “Hey—Kurosaki—stay with me, come on—” Shun coughs, takes a deep, shuddering breath, but still doesn’t open his eyes. “Shun,” Yuuya tries, and the word feels like it’s been wrenched out from somewhere deep in his stomach. “Shun—”

Shun lurches forward. There’s a terrible flare of expectation in his eyes and something, the part of him that moves on instinct to mirror Shun, constricts in Yuuya’s chest in response. “Yuuto?” he demands. “Is he—are you—”

“Whoa, hey—” Yuuya shoves at his chest to push him back. “Don’t—you’re bleeding, you’re gonna make it worse.”

The look Shun levels at him is withering. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You need to...” He gestures at the wound. “Can I—I have to check it.”

Shun grunts, and allows his fingers to be gently pried off his shoulder and his coat to be pulled all the way off his arms. “Do you even know what you’re doing,” he mutters.

Yuuya makes a noise he hopes is suitably noncommittal yet still encouraging. He peels back Shun’s sleeve, does his best not to panic. The wound’s a dark, gaping hole punched right through the meat of his shoulder, which should be obvious but is really just disturbing, all glistening flesh, shredded skin, Shun’s blood sticky-slick on his fingers.

He doesn’t know anything about first aid. So far he’s managed to scrape by on the basis of what he likes to think of as skill but is more likely closer to outrageous luck. All he can remember is Yuzu yelling at him about rice or something the time he’d been practising a routine with the new Real Solid Vision system and sprained his ankle landing a backflip off a crossbeam. Entertainment necessitates risk, so he’s always taken the attendant occupational hazards in stride, but to be fair he’s also never been skewered in the shoulder before.

Well. Revision: Sakaki Yuuya doesn’t know anything about first aid. Good thing he isn’t the only one in his body. But Yuuto stays quiet, a dim presence Yuuya’s only vaguely aware of at the back of his head, so it looks like Yuuya’s going to have to wing it.

Hygiene’s probably important. “Okay,” Yuuya says. “I’m just gonna rinse it out first.”

Shun’s eyes are screwed shut; he hisses at the first uncertain brush of Yuuya’s fingers at the raw edges of the wound but doesn’t otherwise flinch, jaw clenched tight as Yuuya uncaps his flask and pours a steady jet of water over his shoulder. Yuuya does his best not to think too deeply about the morbid intimacy of it all. His fingers aren’t shaking at all, oddly enough, though this is just about the most gruesome thing he’s ever seen up close.

Actually, Yuuya has absolutely no idea what his fingers are doing, but the memory seems ingrained in his muscles, the movements of his hands brisk and clinical with a familiarity that isn’t his own. Elevate, press down on the side closer to the heart to stop the bleeding, maintain constant pressure. And then a memory: Shun, face pale and teeth gritted as Yuuya—as _Yuuto,_ as Yuuto cleans out a long, ragged gash on his forearm with a few precious drops of antiseptic. A girl with Yuzu’s face holds his arm still, chiding him to be more careful. Shun manages a smile and touches her cheek with his other hand, telling her he’s had worse, and Yuuto—

Yuuya blinks away the staticky pinpricks of heat in his eyes. After a few fruitless attempts at tearing the bottom of his shirt to make a bandage he gives up and rummages through Shun’s coat pockets, then his own. He fishes out a crumpled piece of white cloth, one of the ostentatious monogrammed napkins from his Friendship Cup suite; it’s pretty much the cleanest thing around them, so it’ll do.

“If,” Shun begins, low, “if it’s not him, then why do you—”

“I’m not sure,” Yuuya says. “It’s definitely not him, but it’s like—it feels like I’ve done this before. Like I’m working off his memories. He—I saw something, one of the times early on when you came back from supply run with a huge cut here—” Yuuya draws a finger up Shun’s forearm, wincing at the smear of blood he leaves behind, “—and I—and he had to treat it. And, um. Ruri was there as well.”

“Ruri,” Shun repeats. His eyes close again. Maybe it’s easier for him to imagine it really is Yuuto’s practised touch winding the bandage around his shoulder and cinching it tight. The cloth stains red within seconds, but at least the bleeding seems to be slowing. Yuuya lets out a breath, rocks back on his heels. He hopes Yuuto knows how to deal with infection.

 _You need to keep putting pressure on it_. The thought rings out like a struck bell and Yuuya automatically grabs Shun’s hand and places it back on his shoulder, curling his fingers around so he’s cupping his injury. _Yuuto?_ Yuuya wonders, but again, his roommate stays silent.

Half a lifetime ago, Yuuto had pressed Dark Rebellion into his hands and told him to keep the world smiling. At the time it hadn’t seemed like anything to make that promise, only an extension of what came to him as naturally as breathing, second nature, but now that he’s faced down the complacent brutality of the Synchro crowds it doesn’t seem so easy anymore. What a legacy, what a weight to shoulder. Surely Yuuto must have known it, too: that you couldn’t reach everyone.  

But Yuuto still tried, and Yuuya’s still an entertainer, if nothing else. Someday yet he’ll see Shun smile again.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Shun says, abruptly.

“Sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have asked if it was him,” Shun says. “I can tell when it’s him and not you, I knew he was still—I’m not, I’m not thinking—but then I thought I’d know Ruri for sure when I saw her, too.”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s like he’s asleep most of the time, I guess, but some things wake him up,” Yuuya says, scratching the back of his head. They’ve never actually talked about the general _your-best-friend-is-living-in-my-body_ situation before, which is an awkward subject to bring up and an even more awkward one to discuss. He hadn’t understood what was happening, at first, and then Yuuto didn’t want anyone else to know, and now maybe Yuuya wants Shun to look at him without searching for ghosts in the corners of his face. “Mostly when it comes to Dark Rebellion, or Ruri, or… you.” Yuuya hesitates, touches Shun’s arm again. “I think his dreams cross over into mine as well, sometimes. The tower with the spiralling vines, the duel school. It doesn’t really look much like the Action Field.”  

“Heartland,” Shun says, half a sigh. “It must have changed even more by now.” Then, bitterly: “Will I even know it when I see it again?”

“It’s home, of course we’ll know it,” Yuuya responds, without thinking, and both of them freeze. Shun’s expression cracks open, all desperate thunderous yearning, then shutters, collapses in on itself, and the intensity of that brief, irrepressible hope is unbearable. Yuuya averts his eyes and hurriedly removes his hand from Shun’s arm. “I should go find someone before Academia—before it rains—”

Absurdly, Shun reaches out and curls a fist in his shirt, tugs him close again with a deliberate, surprising strength. It’s impossible to tell which one of them he’s seeing. “Don’t,” he mumbles. “Don’t leave.”

It’s Yuuto’s torrential fury—or maybe his own, the barriers blurring and smudging like the view through fogged-up glass—that crashes over Yuuya then and sweeps the breath out of his lungs, watching this boy he’s known for maybe two months and all his life relax his grip to press his palm flat over Yuuya’s heart. Both of them seeking out the familiar in the unknown. Waiting, despite everything, for reciprocation. “Okay,” Yuuya says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to drop by my [tumblr](http://delineative.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/ennezahard)! this fic can be found on tumblr [here](http://delineative.tumblr.com/post/157253897655/fic-looks-like-a-new-transition).


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